Sophisticated and Elegant
by BryceWrites
Summary: AU TWD. Wendy's father always attends the bi-annual Military Ball held for the county, since he has no one else to go with. She usually dreads the stupid thing, but maybe some new faces will turn that around for her.
"Don't you look elegant and sophisticated?" My father said with a smile.

Honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about. This was exactly the same dress I wore to nearly every Military Ball I'd gone to with him since I'd graduated high school. My mother had died years before from a heart attack and my dad refused to go alone, usually roping me in with promises of attractive male suitors from rich military families like ours.

I always agreed though. Never because of the male suitors; I hated dating, let alone when my dad set me up with a rich guy who didn't give a rat's ass about my first name. I went because I knew he would never go alone and my dad really enjoyed mingling with the people he'd slowly drifted apart from after all these years.

There were two balls a year; one in the spring and one in the fall. The spring one was never fun because you were expected to wear pastel colors and grin like it'd make the snow melt faster. But the fall one was fun, bordering on a Halloween theme. Dark colors were more acceptable and you got frequently complimented if you were tan.

I stood in front of the full length mirror, turning and twisting, trying to see if there was any reason I should abandon the dress for something else. My makeup was subtle and low key; any outrageous colors were not allowed under the dress code. A single strand of pearls crossed right above my collar bone with matching earrings caressing my ears.

"Are you ready then?" My father asked politely, but with enough authority in his voice, I was aware I was letting precious time slip away from us. He hated being late. I gave one small nod before heading for the car that was parked in front of the old farm house.

The butler, Randall, was driving us in tonight, as it was an elevated look of status to not be driving yourself. The ball was the only time my father was flashy with his money, wanting to let all the other military personnel in the area know he was well off for his service.

The drive was short and my father made small talk with Randall as we drove. I stared out the window, wondering what kind of band they'd have playing tonight. There was always the Military Band playing at these sorts of things, but it alternated branches of the military and as the branch alternated, the type of music did as well.

When Randall pulled us up front, I sat while my father got out and went around the car, as was customary. When he opened the door, I plastered on what I liked to call my 'military ball smile.' It was a lot like the fake smile you get from customer service, but with a little more life so nobody could tell you were bored out of your brain.

The Ball was being held in the old Roland's Mansion that had been willed to the historical society upon General Isaac Roland's death. As it was a large Victorian styled home, one of the first built in the county of Jamestown, and he'd been a prominent member of the military, the historical society felt it was perfect for the bi-annual military ball.

We checked in at the table that had been set up in foyer of the home. I'd come with my father for so many years, they always tacked my name next to his instead of a plus one. It felt kind of nice to have my name there, next to his where everyone else said the name of the officer plus one. But it wasn't enough to thrill me for this evening.

I took a glance around the entryway. Private First Class Patrick Proctor was against the far wall, and I cringed at the dress his date wore; a blue and black number that settled above her knees and only had one shoulder. Her eye makeup matched her dress and I was certainly not hoping to be around when someone informed her she'd broken three or four rules in the dress code.

Of course PFC Proctor knew she was breaking dress code, but considering how heartily he was laughing with Corporal Luke Bair, I didn't think he cared too terribly much. Corporal Bair's date was dressed much more modestly; a soft peach colored floor length gown with cap sleeves and modest gold jewelry. I'd never seen her around the Ball before, but I could imagine that Corporal Bair had strictly laid the dress code upon her, whereas PFC Proctor had probably informed his date this was a dinner party.

In a sense it was, but being a Military dinner party, we were all held to higher standards.

I saw an angry Mrs. Muztagh move towards the PFC and his date and I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting to be caught in all that mess.

"Senior Master Sergeant Woodrow Wilson. Sir, it's an honor." A man I'd never seen before came up to us. He had short cut brown hair that was sprinkled with salt and pepper. His beard was sprinkled with a bit too. The green insignia on his dress blues informed me that he was Army, a Staff Sergeant if I was reading his patches right.

"A pleasure, son. I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." My father said kindly. He didn't generally like being caught off guard by strangers who knew his name when he didn't know them, but he also knew it was part of being a high ranking officer attending the county's Military Ball.

"Staff Sergeant Rick Grimes, sir." He said with a smile, holding out his hand. "I'm afraid I don't know the name of the young lady who's accompanying you, though."

"Staff Sergeant Grimes, this is my daughter, Wendelyn." My father said proudly.

"Wendy, please." I told him, holding out my hand for him.

He gave a gentle shake and I knew that it was only out of politeness not to give your firmest shake to the daughter of a high ranking officer. "Wendy, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well, Staff Sergeant. Have you come alone this evening?" I asked politely.

He shook his head, glancing around. "No, I haven't, but my girlfriend hates standing in one place too long."

"Well, I'd love to meet her when she flitters back in our direction." I told him with a smile.

He grinned, nodding his head. "I will make sure you meet her before the evening is out. Um, if you'll excuse me, I seem to have misplaced a Marine buddy of mine."

"A grunt friends with a jarhead?" My father asked with a small chuckle. He always joked that you couldn't have friends in different branches; he'd say it was a lot like having a wife and a girlfriend, nobody usually made it out alive.

Grimes smiled, ducking his head. "Believe me, sir. I went all out trying to convince him to join the Army, but he decided the Marines was where he needed to be." He said with a shrug.

My father nodded. "I suppose I shouldn't chastise for him joining regardless."

"No truer words, sir. If you'll excuse me." Grimes said, saluting before heading off into the crowd.

My father looked down at me. "He was alright."

I rolled my eyes. "He has a girlfriend, father."

"I didn't say you needed to marry the boy." My father defended, only halfheartedly.

"I am more than well aware that the bi-annual military ball is where you scout for suitors for your twenty-six year old daughter. I am also aware that they serve rather good scotch at these kinds of things." I told him with a smile.

"Then allow me to be a gentleman and get the lady a drink." He told me with the same slight bow at the waist he gave me when he knew he was pushing a bit too far and trying actively to make up for it.

"That would be excellent of you, sir." I told him as he smiled and headed for the refreshment table. I knew he'd be gone a while; he always met three or four people he knew at the bar top and this was one of the only two social gatherings he entertained during the year, so I wouldn't hold it against him if my scotch took it's time getting back to me.

"Wendy Wilson!" A screech broke out as Delany Addams headed towards me. She hugged me like we were best friends and I tried not to cringe. She was in a dress very closely pressing the dress code; a dark blue number with a bit of rhinestones across the bodice with silver shoes and jewelry. She looked more fit for prom then she did an evening with the armed forces.

"Delany. How nice to see you." I told her. She came to every military ball with a different man. She was what those of us naturally in the life called a 'tag chaser'. She wanted a military man so desperately, she didn't care who he was, what he did, or his rank, as long as he belonged to one of the branches. While all us women on the inside knew this, I was pretty sure none of the men had picked up on it, since she still came every spring and fall since she'd graduated high school the same year I had.

Her poor date this go round was none other than Corporal Shane Anderson. As far as Army grunts went, he was incredibly intelligent and quick witted. He'd taken to the Army to follow in his father's footsteps, but I knew he would have done much better in the Air Force, being behind the scenes things. My father, the one man who joked the Army was full of inbred rednecks, agreed that Shane would've been better suited for the Air Force.

Shane and I had been friends in high school and we drifted apart for no other reason than we just kind of stopped talking after we'd graduated. Most of our class had been rooting for us to date and get married, but I knew Shane was a better friend to me than he'd been a lover.

"Shane. Good seeing you again." I told him with a gentle smile.

He smiled and ducked his head. "Wendy, looking lovely as always."

I turned back to Delany, knowing she went from happy to jealous in about ten seconds. "You look ravishing, darling. Where did you get your dress?"

Her face had slowly started to fall as I interacted with Shane, but her smile returned when I'd diverted my attention from him. "My mom took me to the mall in Jonesburg a few weeks ago. I know it's a prom dress, but it's so cute." She said with a smile.

I faked my best smile for her. She'd have been better off with a cheap evening dress, but I said nothing of the sort. "It fits you perfectly. If you two will excuse me, I asked my father for a drink nearly half an hour ago and I'm sure the man's still at the bar." I told them, veering away from them and heading for the bar.

As I got closer to the bar, where my father was laughing and smiling, something caught his attention and his head turned towards me. His smile was wiped from his face and replaced with a look of guilt. He didn't even have to open his mouth for me to know that he was apologizing.

"Well, Delany Addams just found me. Father, I bring you to these things to ward off people like this. You know talking to her this early in the evening gives me heartburn." I told him sarcastically. Of course, I wouldn't be allowed to attend these things without my father, the high ranking Air Force pilot, but sarcastic comments were generally the way I coped with unpleasant things. I knew he didn't like me talking to him like this in front of other military personnel, but I usually didn't find Delany until halfway through dinner, and here she was within the first hour of me arriving.

"Barkeep, best make it a double scotch for the lady on fire." My father said with a smile that told me he was matching me earlier tone.

"That's more like it, flyboy." I told him with a smile.

My father rolled his eyes and I was aware that several people he'd been previously talking to where watching our interaction. "I am a pilot. A little respect, please."

"And I am your daughter. A little humor, father." I said, taking the shot the bartender set up for me. Bar top glassware wasn't allowed to wander the room, so I finished the shot with a look of admiration from a few of the Air Force wings my father had been keeping company.

"If you'll excuse me, boys, I have a daughter to entertain." My father said, finishing his drink before taking my elbow.

"You know I wasn't pulling you from the bar." I told him. "I was only joking."

He nodded with a smile. "I'm aware. The conversation had died anyway. How's Delany? Which poor bastard did she reel in this time?"

"Shane Anderson, the poor fool." I said with a sigh.

My father groaned. "I rather liked him."

I nodded. "Me too. I swear, it's like none of them know what she's doing."

My father shook his head. "Oh, they know."

I looked up at him, feeling a bit confused. "They what?"

He nodded to me. "They know. Tomorrow, all the young men will be scurrying to find dates for the spring ball and it's a bit like drawing straws; the man without a date the month before the ball is the one to ask her. It's why she's never here with the same man twice." He whispered to me to keep away any wandering ears. "She doesn't pick them. They just know what she's doing and that way she ends up at the ball, and they don't have to come alone."

I watched him for a long moment, trying to decide if he was serious or not. "You're not joking, are you?"

He shook his head. "I wish I was, dear. It's a bit cruel to the girl, letting her think she's got a chance at more than the ball."

I agreed with him, of course. But knowing she wasn't tag chasing, as much as the men were yanking her around made me feel bad for her. And the fact Shane Anderson had been pulled down to that level was a disgrace to me.

"Staff Sergeant Grimes." I said with a smile as he approached us.

"Miss Wilson." He said with a smile. "Senior Master Sergeant Woodrow Wilson, Miss Wilson, this is my girlfriend, Michonne Trelawney."

Her skin was black as ebony and her eyes a chocolate brown. Her hair was in dreadlocks, but they'd been braided and sort of wrapped up like a bun. It was gorgeous and I wanted to know how she'd gotten her hair to do that. Her dress was pale yellow with a keyhole neckline that didn't show too much. If she came again for the spring ball, it'd be a perfect dress to wear.

"Wendy, I insist. It's a pleasure, Miss Trelawney." I said with a smile.

"Then you must call me Rick." The Staff Sergeant said with a smile.

"If you insist." I told him.

"Miss Trelawney, it's a pleasure having you with us this evening." My father said politely.

"Rick's told me a lot about you, sir. It's nice putting a face to the name." Michonne said with a smile.

My father smiled and nodded, and I could see his ego thrive a little.

"Your dress is absolutely gorgeous, Wendy." Michonne said to me.

Without thinking, I glanced down at the black floor length evening gown that was my standard go-to outfit for the ball. "Well, thank you. I like to keep it simple."

"Did you see the lady that's here in the blue and black number?" She asked.

"Oh, we must walk and talk. My father despises gossip, but what he doesn't hear me say, won't hurt him." I told her with a bit of a giggle and I broke from my father to link arms with her.

"Wendy, dear. It's getting close to dinner time." He said in his fatherly voice that abandoned the general commanding air he had. He was kindly reminded me not to make a fool of him.

I sighed, moving back towards him. "Father, I've never missed a ball dinner and for the foreseeable future, I will not. Talk jargon with Rick and I will see you before they serve dinner." I told him, kissing him on the cheek before moving back to link arms with Michonne.

I waited until we were out of earshot from my father. "Alright, I'm not positive, but I'm nearly sure PFC Proctor paid that woman in the blue and black dress to come with him." I whispered to her.

Her face looked stunned. "What? Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not sure how many of these things you've been to, but a cocktail dress is absolutely against dress code. And her makeup? Ghastly." I commented.

Michonne giggled. "You've been to a few of these dinners then?" She asked.

"I've been to every one of them since I graduated high school. My mom died my freshman year and my father stopped coming when he didn't have anyone to go with. His health started to decline after mom died, so I told him I'd come with him. He loves these things." I told her with a shrug.

She nodded. "That's very nice of you, since you don't seem thrilled by the idea."

"My father has been a military man my whole life. His favorite thing has always been attending these events so he doesn't lose touch with his military side. I don't understand people like Delany Addams who want to be a part of it so badly. But I guess that it's just where I come from, so there's not much grandeur to it anymore, ya know?" I spoke, glancing around the edges of the room.

"Who's Delany Addams?" Michonne asked, looking around the room with me.

"Against the far wall, midnight blue prom dress and silver heels." I commented.

"She's uh… oh she's a…" Michonne started. "Tag chaser, right?" She asked, looking over at me to see if she'd hit the mark.

I nodded. "She comes to every ball with a different man. Although, I recently found out it's not so much her fault. I mean, she's enthralled by the lifestyle for some insane reason, but the men kind of draw straws for her. Whoever doesn't have a date has to ask her to go. It's a win-win, I guess. She gets a date to the ball and one of them doesn't have to come alone."

"This is the first one I've been to. Rick's never really been interested in these types of things, but he's kind of cooping himself up these days. He's got two kids, but he's sectioning himself off from the rest of the world." She said, looking worried.

I smiled at her, gently putting my hand on hers. "He looks much better tonight. He looks like he's having a fun. And you followed the dress code flawlessly, so nobody will be whispering about you in a corner." I told her with a grin since that's exactly what we were doing.

She smiled at me, giggling just a little before looking out over the room. Her eyes quickly found me again though. "So you're not with anybody?" She asked curiously.

I shook my head. "I had two relationships since I got out of school, but nothing really outstanding. One was controlling and neurotic and the other, don't ask me how I ended up in this one, but we started dating and he was funny and sweet, and when he found out I was from a military family, he went all 'soldiers are baby killers and you should be ashamed of yourself'." I shook my head.

"That's terrible!" She exclaimed.

I nodded. "Glad it ended quickly on both counts. But I mean, my dad needs help with his health and if I live with him, he doesn't need to hire somebody; although, he generally uses this kind of thing as an excuse to hook me up with somebody."

"How's that going?" Michonne asked with a smile.

I sighed. "Worse than he'd like, I'm sure. He's got this thing about wanting grandkids to tell his hero stories to." I rolled my eyes.

"Tell him he can adopt Rick's kids as his grandkids. Neither of us have our parents anymore." She told me.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I said, suddenly feeling like I stepped on toes.

"No, it's fine. They all went peacefully in their sleep, rest their souls." She told me with a gentle smile.

I saw a few of the helpers walking back and forth from the dining room to the foyer. "Come, dinner is going to be served shortly." I told her, linking arms once more.

"How can you tell?" She asked, looking at the clock.

"When the members of the historical society are making themselves busy, the next event is about to take place. You'll notice they do this before the dance as well." I told her.

"Where does the speech come in?" She asked.

"That's done right before dinner is served." I told her as we made our way into the dining room. They'd set up several small circle tables, each seating six people. My father was already sat at a table with Rick and both a man and woman I'd never seen before.

"Forgive me, gentlemen. Michonne and I have become the best of friends and you'll have to separate if you wish to sit next to your dates. Otherwise, one of you will have to sit alone." I spoke over my father's shoulder when they had a break in the conversation.

"Then by all means, allow me." My father said, rising from his seat. He pulled out the chair he'd been in, gesturing for Michonne to sit down before he pushed the chair back in. He pulled out the chair next to her and did the same for me, which I thanked him for before he took a seat next to me.

"I'm afraid you've not introduced us to your comrades, father." I said quietly.

The man had dark brown hair, cut short, the same as his beard and mustache. His blues were pressed a bit more than Rick's were and the insignia on his uniform told me he was a mechanic of sorts. His sharp blue eyes darted around the room, telling me he'd been in combat before and he hadn't ended well off for it.

The woman had long chestnut colored hair in a tight bun. She had a much more relaxed air about her, telling me she'd never been in combat, or a firefight. I couldn't clearly see her insignia from this side of the table, but she seemed to be a tactical planner type.

"Wendy, this is Sergeant Daryl Dixon and Airman First Class Arla Nelson. Lady, gentleman, this is my daughter, Wendy." My father said with a bit of his traditional commanding air.

"A pleasure, sir, ma'am." I said with a nod to both of them.

"The Sergeant is my lost Marine." Rick said with a smile and a pat on the shoulder to the Sergeant.

"Ah, the lost Marine. Do you get lost at dinner parties often, or just those of the military kind?" I asked.

"Now Wendy," My father started to chastise.

"Sir, if I may." Sergeant Dixon spoke up in a southern drawl with a smile to me and a look at my father, who gave his nod to continue. "I actively try to avoid dinner parties, but when I am forced to attend," He said with a glance at Rick. "I do tend to get lost on purpose."

I smirked a little, enjoying his answer. "I suppose I'll have a talk with the historical society. We must hand out maps if we're to have Marines getting lost."

He generally disapproved of my witty banter around the military personnel, but since he'd noticed Dixon taking it well, he wouldn't reprimand me anymore.

"And how did you bribe the Airman First Class into joining us?" I asked with a glance at my father.

"Surprisingly enough, she joined of her own free will, no bribe needed, thank you." My father said, an edge to his words that I was treading a little more dangerously than I did normally.

Nelson grinned widely. "Miss Wilson, your father is one of my favorite pilots. The story of how he flew into Iranian airspace to retrieve his fallen friend." She said with a satisfied smile.

I rolled my eyes despite myself. "And when the smoke cleared, the Iranians shot at us like the blue devils we were. It was a miracle I made it back to the craft alive, let along dragging old Bobby Malone." I quoted the story he'd told me since I was little.

"You say that like you've heard it a few times." Michonne said with a smile.

"I'm sure I could tell it better than he does. I like to use different voices and kind of act it out. He just tells it like he's reading a history book." I told her.

"It is history." My father defended lightly.

I had a snarky comeback ready, but I held it back, nodding my head to the pilot. I knew I was slowly reaching his quota of sass for the day and I wanted to save it for something more interesting than bickering at the dinner table.

"Who's giving our speech this evening, father?" I asked quietly, as to not disturb the quiet conversation that had fallen over the table.

"General Roberts, I believe. You know how his ego needs stroked every six months." My father said with a sigh.

I nodded with a little smile. When I looked back at the table, I found Sergeant Dixon watching me. He quickly glanced back to Rick, who was animatedly talking battle strategy.

"So Rick taught me the dress code and he told me about the dance after dinner, but I don't know anything about table etiquette." Michonne warned me with a whisper as my father started taking to Airman Nelson about her post.

I smiled. "There's a lot to learn about dinner, but I'll teach you as we go. It's easier to remember then being told all at once." I said.

She nodded and smiled, obviously appreciating the fact I was willing to help her.

General Roberts gave a good speech about family, honor, and the military thread that linked all of us together tonight; much a similar speech to the one he gave at the spring ball and the one he gave at the fall ball before it. He thanked the historical society for hosting us, the bank of Jamestown for donating dinner, and the Shade Tree restaurant for serving us dinner. He also thanked all the top ranking military members that could make it, my father included and we clapped for each of them.

Dinner was a slow process. It mostly involved talking, which left little time to eat since you weren't allowed to talk while eating, obviously. I mostly stayed out of the talking. I noticed Sergeant Dixon did nearly the same as Airman Nelson entertained my father, and Rick and Michonne talked amongst themselves about the inner workings of the event.

The starter was soup and salad; a creamy squash soup with a Cobb salad. The main course was parmesan garlic chicken with asparagus and sweet potatoes, and for dessert, we enjoyed spiced apple pie with a bourbon salted caramel sauce.

As soon as Sergeant Dixon was done with his dessert, he leaned into Rick, whispered something, and stood up, moving away from the table. I tried not to watch him as he left. He intrigued me and I wanted to know more about him without asking.

As dinner winded down and the eating slowed to a stop, I excused myself from the table, quietly informing my father I had to take a trip to the powder room. While I left the room aiming for the bathroom, once I was out of sight from the table, I headed for the back balcony that oversaw the back yard. In the spring, the historical society put on an Easter egg hunt for children under the age of ten on the wide open back yard.

I stepped through the back door quietly, as this was technically off limits for guests. I paused, seeing another person on the balcony, off to the left side, nearly hidden in the shadows the full moon cast. They turned, obviously hearing me move.

"Sergeant Dixon, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were out here." I said, picking up the hem of my dress out of habit and turning to leave.

"You don't gotta run away." His voice said and I paused again, my back to him. His voice at the table had the same sort of commanding air that my father's normally took on when talking to other military personnel. But now it had a sincere edge to it I hadn't heard from a person in a while.

"I… just figured if you were to get lost on purpose, maybe you didn't want anyone else around." I commented, turning back to him.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking a little helpless. "I don't like being alone… I just end up like that most of the time." I stood there watching him for a moment before he gestured to his side and the only fifteen feet of balcony. "There's enough room for both of us."

I nodded, slowly moving to stand in the middle of the balcony, so I wasn't crowding him. "Beautiful night."

He nodded, watching the big yard like somebody might pop out of it. I silently wanted to know what had happened to him. My father told stories of being in combat and I knew the signs when he was getting anxious or a room made him uncomfortable because he couldn't see the exit. Dixon continued for a moment before he glanced at me, catching me staring. I ducked my head, feeling a bit ashamed for staring at the sergeant.

"You can ask."

I shook my head. Such things were taboo. If somebody was to talk about it, that was fine. But it had always been taboo to ask. "I'd never ask a person such a thing."

"Why not? Other people would." He said and there was a harsh edge to his words I knew wasn't directed at me.

"I am not other people, Sergeant Dixon." I told him with a gentle shake of my head.

He watched me a moment longer. "You call Rick by his first name. Why not me?"

"I always address military personnel by their rank and last name, as any other military person would, unless I know them personally or they ask otherwise. Rick asked." I told him.

"Call me Daryl." He spoke and his drawl seemed to thicken.

I nodded to him. "Alright, Daryl."

He nodded like it made him feel better as he took another glance at the dark yard. "We best go back. You know how there's always whispers about the only two people to disappear."

I smiled a little. I was well aware. "I'll… um, I'll go back first, if that's alright. Give you another moment alone."

He nodded a thank you and I turned, moving back inside. I wound around to come back from the direction of the powder room and found my father on the edge of the ballroom, talking with Airman Nelson and Rick. Michonne disappeared off to somewhere.

"Darling, I was about to send a search party." My father said.

"Forgive me, father. I smudged my makeup in the bathroom and then of course I had to fix it and it was a calamity to say the least. Did I miss anything interesting?" I spoke.

"Not at all. They're about to play the first song if the jarhead's can tune their instruments." My father said with a note of irritation.

"You'd think they'd have it together by now." Daryl commented, coming to stand next to the rest of us.

My father nearly flinched. "I'm sorry, Sergeant Dixon."

Daryl smiled and shook it off. "No apology necessary. Not all jarheads are stupid, not all zoomies fly planes."

My father smiled goodheartedly. "No truer words, my friend."

"And the couple that will share the first dance have been randomly selected out of two bowls of names, divided by men and women." A lady from the historical society said into the singer's microphone, drawing two names. "Sergeant Daryl Dixon and Wendy Wilson."

I rolled my eyes, looking at my father. "Random name draw, huh?"

My father smiled wolfishly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"How many times is my name in that bowl, sir?" I asked, looking up at him with a pointed glare.

"Probably twenty or thirty, but really, what's it matter? You've got a Marine to dance with." My father told me, pushing gently on my shoulder.

"May I have this dance?" Daryl asked, bowing slightly at the waist as a violin began to play slowly.

I gave a small curtsy. "Of course, sir." I told him, taking his extended hand.

He led me to the dance floor and I was all too aware of the entire party watching us. "Ya nervous?" He whispered to me.

I nodded, feeling butterflies dancing in my stomach. I didn't know why though. My father always made me dance with at least one man besides him while we were at the ball, and I'd known how to do the dance since I was old enough to walk. But something about Daryl's sincerity on the balcony and good nature to my sassy words gave me a funny feeling in my stomach I hadn't felt in a while.

"Don't be nervous or you'll make me nervous." He told me quietly, getting us into place.

"What do I do to stop it then?" I whispered back to him.

"Talk to me." He instructed, leading us into our first few steps of the dance.

"About what?" I asked him. He was a flawless lead; possibly even better than my father, but I'd never tell him that for fear of injuring his ego.

"You been comin' to these things long? Ya know all the etiquette." He told me, holding me close as we swayed.

"Since I graduated high school. My dad doesn't like coming alone." I told him.

He smirked, twirling me around. I felt light when he did it, like a feather floating gently in a soft summer breeze. "You're a hell of a date to bring."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." I told him quietly.

His eyes were playful now, nothing like the nearly helpless man I'd seen on the balcony mere moments before. "Ya better."

I smiled at him as he moved us back and forth, my steps falling perfectly in time with his. I'd never danced with a man who made the movements so easy to follow. Even my father, who was near the best lead I'd danced with, made me stumble at least once.

"You're good at this." He told me, his eyes holding mine.

"I'm just following a good lead." I told him honestly.

"Dancing ain't leading and following. Learnin' to dance is, but dancin' itself ain't." He told me, his drawl coating his words like honey.

"What's it about then, Daryl?" I asked.

"Understanding." He told me with a smile as the song fell to a close and he pulled me close, dipping me before righting me and taking a step back to bow slightly.

I curtseyed, as was expected and applause broke out, as it always did for the first dance of the night. When I returned to my father's side, he had a peculiar look on his face. "Are you alright?"

He nodded with a sheepish smile. "I'm fine, dear."

"Then why do you look like the cat that just ate the canary?" I asked him.

"You and Daryl seem to dance well together." He told me.

"It's all about the lead, that's what you've always said." I told him quietly. "You should ask Airman Nelson to dance."

He scoffed. "With me?"

"Yes sir. I'm sure you'd make the girl's night." I told him. I noticed Rick and Michonne on the dance floor, and I smiled. They danced so well together.

"I will dance with Airman Nelson if you agree to dance with Daryl once more before we leave." He told me, holding out his pinky.

I smirked at the old tradition he felt the need to keep up as I took his pinky finger. "A promise, my pilot."

"A promise, my daughter." He said, turning to the Airman who seemed more than content to stand at the edge of the room. "Airman Nelson, may I have this dance?"

Her face lit up a little and the barest pink graced her cheeks. "Of course, sir. It'd be an honor." She said, taking his hand.

As my father left my side, I noticed Daryl standing on the other side of me. "Who taught you to dance like that?"

He smiled a little, ducking his head like he was embarrassed. "The first girlfriend I had after I joined. She told me if I was gonna go to a military ball and be taken seriously; I should know how to dance. She was a dance teacher in Atlanta."

I nodded. "As soon as I could walk, my father taught me. He always told me it was so that I could be the belle of the ball, following a uniformed man around the room with grace."

Daryl shook his head like he didn't approve, but he stayed quiet.

"At ease, Marine. You have permission to speak freely." I told him with a smile.

He smirked at my words. "You're better than that."

"Better than what?" I asked quietly.

"Better than following a uniformed man 'round the room, grace or not." He told me, looking me in the eyes and I felt like his piercing blue gaze could see into my soul.

"You think so highly of me, even though you haven't known me an entire evening?" I asked.

"Don't need to know ya your whole life to know you're worth ten times more than any other woman in this room." He told me sincerely.

"Wendy, might I be graced with a dance?" Rick asked, returning with Michonne and a smile.

"As many as your girlfriend permits, sir." I told him with a smile, feeling bad for not having time to respond to Daryl's comment about my character.

Rick pulled me onto the dance floor as the next song began and we danced together, but I realized it was a bit more wooden than it had been with Daryl. Rick was a good dancer, but it definitely didn't feel exciting the way it had with Daryl.

When the dance was over, I thanked him for the dance and returned to see my father smiling still.

"You're going to make me ask again, aren't you?" I asked with a glance up at the older man.

"You didn't seem to be having quite as much fun as you did with your first dance." He told me quietly.

"What are you always saying about pussyfooting around?" I asked him passively, watching the room move.

"For a Marine…" He trailed off. "He's not bad."

I'm sure the shock showed on my face. Of all the branches, my father talked worst of the Coast Guard because in his mind, unless we were actively at war, they were just another NCIS or MP type of organization. Second worst, however, was Marines. He said they were usually stupider and angrier than any Army Grunt he'd crossed and my father used to be quite the bar fly in his glory days.

To hear the man give a Marine compliment might have been the same as me telling PFC Proctor's date that she looked fabulous and to ask where she'd gotten her dress; nearly unspeakable.

"I'm gonna tell him you said that too." I spoke.

"You certainly will not." My father said sternly. "I have a reputation to uphold and I will not have my daughter going spewing compliments to other branches members." Despite the firm tone his voice took and the fact it wasn't on his face, I could hear the smile in his words, telling me he found humor with the whole situation. In all my years, I'd never been in this kind of predicament before.

"Not always interesting," I commented.

"But never boring, yes indeed." My father finished.

We stood on the outside of the room, watching the band play and numerous other couples dance. For Delany's part, she'd gotten very good at the dancing part of the affair. Shane had always been a clumsy dancer, but Delany always smiled and I could imagine she was the type of person to tell him he was doing great even when he wasn't.

Rick was a decent dancer and I could tell Michonne was new, but she did pretty well and Rick even slowed down the steps a bit to help her with the dance. I liked how she looked at him like he was her whole world. The look he gave her wasn't much different and it made me smile, seeing them so deeply in love with each other.

My father moved away from me and I watched him go, silently curious where he was off to. He didn't usually wander far, but he might've seen someone worth talking to. He only moved a few feet from me, standing at Daryl's side with his back to me. I watched them and I could see my father's head move, so I knew he was talking with the Marine. It didn't last much longer before he returned to my side.

"Should I be concerned?" I asked quietly, returning my gaze to the room.

"Definitely not." He told me, but I didn't really believe him.

"Wendy, may I have this dance?" Daryl asked, bowing a bit.

I nodded with a bit of a smile, taking his hand as he led us to the floor. "Should I ask why you were whispering with my father?"

Daryl smirked and I felt a small fit of butterflies ignite in my stomach again. "He said I should dance with ya so then I had a reason to stare."

"You were staring?" I asked.

He ducked his head a bit, but we never missed a step. "A man who wouldn't stare at you is out of his damn mind."

I smiled and could feel my cheeks warm a little.

"You keep doin' that like you never heard anybody talk nice to ya." He commented.

"I've just never heard anybody talk to me like you do." I told him as he flung me around.

"I'll have to keep doin' it then." Daryl told me as the song ended. He bowed and I curtseyed before he walked us back to our little group of people.

A lady from the historical society took over the singer's microphone again and smiled at the crowd as the music halted behind her. "Thank you everyone for coming tonight. We had a great turn out and you all are a delight to host as always, so I'd like to give a hand to all the uniformed men and women that could make it, as well as your beautiful dates." She said, and a round of applause broke out. "And now, before we play the last song of the evening, I'd like to give a special thanks to The Bank of Jamestown, the Shade Tree Eatery, General Roberts for gracing us with his presence, and to every one of you beautiful guests following the dress code."

I smirked and shook my head, clapping like everyone else.

"May I have this dance?" My father asked, bowing in front of me.

I shook my head at him. "You never have to ask." I told him, taking his hand and following him onto the dance floor.

He started us moving and I followed easily, my moves mirroring his exactly. "He's a good dancer."

I tilted my head a little. "You're really stuck on him, aren't you?" He'd never pestered me about men, although he constantly tried to set me up with them. If he knew I wasn't interested, or I thought they were boring, he left it alone. I'd never seen him continue on like this before.

"You're smitten with him. Why wouldn't I be stuck on him?" My father asked with a smile.

"I don't think smitten is a good word." I told him.

"You're obviously taken by him." He commented.

I was quiet for a moment as we moved about the floor. "He's intriguing."

My father smirked, a knowing look in his eyes. "You haven't been intrigued by a man in quite some time."

"True, but that doesn't mean wedding bells. It simply means he's interesting." I spoke.

He nodded. "Of course." And with that, we fell into a comfortable silence, moving back and forth together.

When the song ended, we moved back to the small group of people we'd acquired as everyone else slowly made for the front doors. My father usually liked to hang back anyways; he hated fighting through people to get to the car.

"Sir, it's been an honor spending the evening with you and your daughter." Rick told us, reaching for my father's hand.

My father gave him a firm shake. "Staff Sergeant, you've made the night for both of us, I'm sure. Michonne, dear, it's been a delight."

"It's been great meeting both of you." Michonne said with a smile.

"Sergeant, a pleasure as well. Hopefully we'll be seeing you around a bit more." My father said.

I glanced at him and gave the smallest shake of my head.

"Sir, it's an honor meetin' you." Daryl said, leaning in to shake my father's hand. His eyes fell onto me and I felt the group of butterflies rear up in my stomach again.

"Daryl, thank you for the lovely evening." I told him with a smile.

"A pleasure meeting your acquaintance, ma'am." He told me with a little nod.

The way he said 'ma'am' set off the butterflies again and I felt my cheeks warm up the slightest bit. "Don't be getting lost at any more dinner parties." I told him with a smile, turning to take my father's elbow. We made our way to the door and my father sighed above me.

"What?" I asked, looking up at him.

"You didn't get his phone number, you don't know where the boy lives, you didn't kiss him." He spoke up as we reached the foyer. He quickly thanked the historical society for the gathering and we stepped out onto the deck.

"Kiss him? I've barely known him four hours." I spoke up.

"Your mother and I met because of a kiss, you know." He told me, stopping and turning to me.

"You never told me that." I said, looking up at him.

He nodded. "A buddy of mine bet me fifty dollars I wouldn't kiss the next girl that walked through the door that didn't have a ring on her finger. Her friend walked in first, already married. Your mother followed and being young and daring, I couldn't refuse a bet, so I went right up to her and planted one on her. I took her on our first date with the money I won."

"Mom always said you'd met at a bar because of a bet, but she never told me that." I spoke.

He nodded, taking my arm and walking down the steps and across the driveway to where Randall had parked the Cadillac.

Something stopped me, making me turn back to the house. Part of me felt like I'm missed out; like I'd been given an opportunity and I'd dashed it. I bit my lip, glancing at my father.

He smiled gently at me. "I'll be in the car." He told me, turning and letting Randall open the back door for him.

I gathered my resolve and moved as quickly across the driveway as I could in my nice shoes. I fit the bottom of the stairs for the deck and paused, hearing something.

Daryl was halfway out the door, looking surprised at me as he came to a halt. "I thought… I thought ya'd left…" He told me.

"Well, I almost did. But I forgot something." I told him, moving up the steps to meet him on the deck of the old home.

He watched me carefully, his eyes never leaving me. "S'that?" He asked.

I bit my lip a little, feeling suddenly bashful. But something stirred in my chest and I knew I was doing whatever it was I was supposed to be doing. So I looked up at him and smiled a little.

His face broke out in a grin. "Funny. Me too." He said, setting his hand behind my neck and leaning down to gently press his lips against mine.

I moved to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his hands moved to set on my hips. It only lasted another moment before he pulled back and smiled a little, biting the corner of his lip.

"Ain't done that in a while." He commented quietly.

"We should do it more often then." I told him.

"Can I have yer number? Think I misplaced mine." He told me, holding up a pen.

I grinned up at him. "I was just about to ask you the same thing." I told him, taking it from him and writing it on the palm of his hand.

"God, I was scared they were gonna miss each other."

Daryl stepped sideways to turn and see Rick behind him in the foyer, Michonne with a smile on her face. "Did you hear how smooth he was?" She asked.

"It's always the quiet ones that have all the game." Rick commented to her with a smile.

"Don't wanna keep your old man waitin'." Daryl told me.

I looked over at Michonne. "Get my number from him. Who knows? Maybe we could double date." I said with a smile, turning and heading back for the car.

Randall opened the door for me when I got close enough and I thanked him, sliding in next to my father.

He said nothing, just smiled at me.

A buzzing could be heard and I realized it was my cell phone, in the side pocket where I'd left it before getting out of the car. I answered it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Just wanted to make sure you didn't give me no fake number." A sweet southern drawl said.

I smiled, turning to see him on the deck with Rick and Michonne. "You think that highly of me?"

"You got plans tomorrow night?" He asked and I could see the smile on his face from the deck as Randall pulled out of the courtyard.

I smiled, feeling happier than I'd been in a while. "Not unless you're asking me out."

"Damn right I am." He told me.

"Then I guess I have plans." I told him.

My father grinned next to me. "Take us home, Randall. I believe the lady needs to decide on an outfit for dinner."


End file.
